


selflessly getting what i always wanted

by Polyhexian



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, GRATUITOUS robot gore, Multi, Polyamory, Post canon, Trauma, do not @ me about my robot biology I cannot read, it's a whirl fic you KNOW the applicable warnings, lost light timeline, third person, we got some whumpy stuff in here folks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:33:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24079042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polyhexian/pseuds/Polyhexian
Summary: I drop a big rock on my ot3 and then they cry a lot.
Relationships: Cyclonus/Tailgate/Whirl (Transformers), Minor drift & rodimus
Comments: 15
Kudos: 92





	selflessly getting what i always wanted

Drift pressed the blade of his knife gently up against the hunk of wood in his servos, slicing off another thin layer that came away like curved paper, the piece one stroke closer to looking less like a hunk of wood and more like a figure of his Conjunx. This was his third attempt at whittling one and the first two had been so embarrassing he had burned the evidence, but this one was actually starting to- 

"So much for on duty!" 

Drift yelped as his chair was yanked back and dug the blade all the way through the piece, lopping it in half with one fluid, panicked motion before he had even realized what he was doing. He glared up at Rodimus with all the ire he could muster.

"Now look what you've made me do," he groaned, holding up the ruined project. Rodimus's grin fell when he noticed it, looking embarrassed.

"Oh. Sorry, dude. I thought you were just sharpening the knife."

"You still shouldn't try to surprise someone who's holding a knife," Drift sighed, waving Rodimus's hands away from his chair so he could sit up and toss the two halves of the wood onto the desk, "What if I'd stabbed you? Or worse, what if I'd stabbed myself?"

"Then I would just have to weep over your gross corpse," said Rodimus, grabbing another chair and spinning it around backward, "And remind everyone that he died on duty, when he's not supposed to be whittling Ratchet effigies."

"Fine," Drift rolled his eyes, "I am sorry that watching an empty star field could not hold my full and undivided attention, as if  _ you _ ever take this post. What is it that has excited you so much you would dare come to the most boring room on the ship?"

"My best friend," Rodimus humphed, pretending to look hurt.

"Hm."

"To  _ tell _ my best friend," Rodimus amended, "That we picked up a new planetoid on an Energon scan."

"So?" Drift asked, "Send a drone." 

Rodimus stuck out his tongue. "I already did."

"And?"

"There's  _ definitely _ Energon down there," Rodimus grinned, "And you know what that means."

Drift couldn't help but smirk at Rodimus's unbridled enthusiasm, "It means an exploratory mission".

"It means an exploratory mission!" Rodimus repeated, throwing his servos in the air for a double fist pump.

"I don't know why you're so excited," Drift laughed, "Those literally  _ never _ go well. Someone  _ always _ gets hurt."

"Yes, usually me, but it's  _ worth  _ it," Rodimus argued, "Seeing new planetoids is exciting, Drift! Don't you like exploring the great unknown?"

"I like the company," Drift teased, earning him a delightfully flustered amica.

"Yes. Good. You should."

"So who have you picked, then?"

Rodimus leaned forward in his chair, "Oh, you know, the usual suspects."

* * *

  
  


"Frag yes!" Whirl hollered, scrambling about the room, "Finally! It's been  _ weeks  _ since I got to put my pedes off this pitship!"

Cyclonus sheathed his Great Sword, watching Whirl rush too and fro about their shared habsuite, rummaging in boxes and pushing up panels in the wall he hadn't realized could open. "How many guns do you  _ keep _ in here, Whirl?"

"I decline to answer that question," Whirl snorted, opening a compartment beneath the nightstand and pulling out a grenade, "That's private."

"Whirlibird, you don't leave them loaded like that, do you?" fretted Tailgate, lingering by the door.

Whirl pulled a pistol out from beneath their berth, checked it, unloaded it, and then shoved it back where it had come from. 

"No," he replied.

* * *

  
  


Rodimus eased the shuttlepod into landing, setting it down on the cracked and bevelled surface. The planetoid was beyond sparse, dark, craggy rock that stretched out as far as his optic could parse, which wasn't very far at all, due to the thick cloud of debris that clung to the air. 

"Gee, ain't this place just cheery?" Whirl quipped behind him. Rodimus ignored him.

He locked the landing gear and keyed open the door, standing from his seat triumphantly. "Alright! Wham, bam, in the van! Let's hit the bricks, crew, and find that Energon!"

There was a mumble of agreement that only rose to about twenty percent of his own enthusiasm, so Rodimus resolved to try to put even more pep into his step to try to get everyone hype.

The second he stepped onto the surface, however, he felt at least twenty percent less excited. The ground was the texture of burnt sponge, crackly, with bizarre, uncomfortable give, and he absolutely despised the feel of it. He of course, ignored this, and trotted out without pausing anyway, holding his blaster under his arm. Drift trotted after him, though he was far more forthcoming with his distaste for the unpleasant texture. 

"Well, we've certainly found a prime vacation spot, huh?" whined Whirl as he followed the rest of the crew off the shuttle.

"Alright, well, yes, fine, this planet sucks. So far!" Rodimus reminded them, "It still has a chance to get cool. Anyway. Brainstorm?"

"Unfortunately, I don't have a "cool" tracking meter yet, but I do have an Energon sensor. So I'm just going to follow that," said Brainstorm, waving a handheld device, before fiddling with a nob and then waddling off to his right with purpose. "This way, then." 

"That way, then!" Rodimus repeated, pointing with his firearm. 

"Hey, Cyc, why don't you scout ahead and see if the landscape changes?" suggested Tailgate, who was sitting on the purple mech's shoulders. 

"An excellent idea," Cyclonus agreed, "Rodimus?"

"Sounds good to me!"

"Whirl-" Cyclonus started, but Whirl had already plucked the minibot up and plopped him on his own shoulders.

"Have fun without us, lurch!" Whirl waved. Cyclonus sidestepped the group before transforming and leaving them, disappearing quickly into the cloud of black fog.

"Could be volcanic," Swerve suggested, "This isn't usually the kind of material you find in volcanic areas, but, uh, whatever it is, I feel like it's probably the result of superheating and cooling at some point."

"God, I keep forgetting you know about things other than booze," Whirl snorted, "Stop that."

"It could potentially be the result of rapid depressurization," Brainstorm posited, "like putting one of those tiny dinosaur sponges into water."

"Putting- what?" said Chromedome.

"The dinosaur sponges. You know, from Earth. Rewind bought a ton of them."

"Is that what those are?" 

"I just think they're neat," Rewind mumbled.

Swerve knealt down, touching the surface with his palm experimentally, "Well, it wouldn't hurt to grab a sample, anyway." 

The group looked up at the sound of Cyclonus's return, and he landed with a thump in front of Rodimus at its head.

"It just goes on like this," he reported. There was a groan throughout the group. 

Whirl opened his cockpit and shoved his handgun into it, "I knew I wasn't gonna get to shoot nothin'," he complained. Tailgate patted the top of his head consolingly.

"Tragic," said Brainstorm, "I really wanted to see if you would notice what I did to your gun or not."

Whirl squinted at him. "I can't tell if you're serious or not, but if you're leading me on, you're gonna hurt for it."

"Hey, at least we can take a sample of a weird material," said Swerve, grabbing a tiny core driver from his subspace, "Who knows, maybe it does something fun, eh?"

He tapped the drill bit into the surface and drove the dowel of the corer into the rock. Beneath them, distantly, there was a  _ Bang! _ and without any further fanfare, the entire shelf they were standing on crumbled beneath their pedes, and plunged the group into shrieking darkness.

* * *

  
  


Whirl shook his helm, sending a spray of debris and dust from where it had settled. His optic was offline and all he could sense, at the moment, was overwhelming, frustrating pain, which was blocking out anything else and making it unbelievably annoying to figure out what was going on. He clawed at his short term memory for how the hell he ended up like this and only dimly recalled carrying Tailgate on his shoulders, when-

Oh, slag, where was Tailgate? 

Whirl had to clock his helm casing twice before whatever had disconnected snapped back into place and he force-started his optical sensors, swearing when light flooded in, shuttering again immediately before blinking it back open, squinting as his vision adjusted. 

"Whirl!" cried a familiar voice, and Whirl raised his head, trying to find the source of the sound.

"Cyclonus?" he asked, uncertainly, "That you?"

"I'm here," Cyclonus replied, but Whirl still couldn't find him, "Behind the wall."

The light moved away, and Whirl realized it had been a headlight, cast in through a crack where two large pieces of rubble had caught against each other, leaving an opening just wide enough for Cyclonus to squeeze an arm part of the way through. Whirl looked around at the tiny cavern he found himself in, a mix of rubble and raw energon, glowing dull cyan where it had absorbed the light cast by Cyclonus. It was barely high enough for him to sit up on his elbows, and when he turned to look at his flank he wanted to grimace at the sight. A slab of stone had crushed him from the pelvis down and shorn off both his legs in the process. Ratchet was gonna be pissed at him for ruining  _ another _ pair of legs.

"Whirl," Cyclonus repeated, and Whirl turned back toward him, noting that his vision was still ghosting pretty badly as he did, "Listen to me. I need you to check on Tailgate."

"Right," Whirl mumbled, searching the alcove for the minibot, "Where is the pipsqueak?"

"Look down," said Cyclonus.

Whirl cast his optic down and felt his tanks flip. He hadn't even realized, but he must have grabbed him when the floor went out from under them. He was still clutching him like a life preserver. 

"Shortstop," he prompted, shifting back and pulling his arms away, but the minibot didn't respond, visor dim. "Hey, come on," he said, more firmly, giving him a shake. Tailgate didn't move.

Whirl didn't look up when he heard Cyclonus take a sharp invent, and instead pressed one audial to the front of Tailgate's chestplate, listening intently. It was quiet, but he heard the distinct thrum of an engine and the electric pulse of his spark, still cycling weakly in its casing. He sighed, relieved. 

"Is he-" Cyclonus started.

"He's alive," Whirl interrupted before he could vocalize the thought, and he heard Cyclonus finally release an exvent.

"What's wrong with him?" Cyclonus coughed, "I can't see any injuries from here."

Whirl tilted his helm back gently, noting the dent. "He must have conked his head," he said, gently setting it back where it lay, "You alright?"

"You are worse off than I."

"Right," said Whirl, staring down at the motionless mech beneath him that he had failed to protect.

"This is not the time for wallowing," Cyclonus chided, "Do not go into one of your spirals."

"I ain't goin' into a spiral," he grunted, scanning the roof for probability on its structural integrity, "You hear from anyone else? My comm's gone to shit."

"Rodimus said they have a lock on us," Cyclonus replied, "his words were 'Don't die before we get there.'"

"No promises," Whirl rippled in annoyance at the data. Yeah, he definitely did not want to fuck with the structure here. It was already a precarious miracle that it hadn't crushed them yet.

"Whirl, I am serious," Cyclonus warned, "Do not spiral."

"I ain't spiralling!" Whirl snapped, peering into the darkness to see the purple mech through the crack, though he could only see one clawed hand poking through. 

He heard Cyclonus sigh on the other side and turned his optic away to return his attention to Tailgate, still motionless and dark. 

"Come on, legs," he murmured, setting his own helm back down on the ground, swiping aside warnings clouding his HUD that he didn't care about, "Don't cut out on me now."

"He's going to be alright, Whirl."

"Yeah," said Whirl, softly.

"You're spiralling."

"Alright," snapped Whirl, "I'm spiralling." 

Cyclonus shifted on the other side of the wall and went silent for a moment. "What about you? Anything important damaged?"

"Uh," Whirl started, running back through the diagnostic report he had ignored, "Mostly just the legs. I mean, I'm bleeding out, obviously, but that's gonna take awhile, I ain't too worried about it."

"Good," said Cyclonus, "At least there's that."

"At least," Whirl muttered, feeling cynical. 

"Yes, at least," Cyclonus repeated, stubborn as always, "I am glad you aren't worse off."

"Don't even know how he clocked himself anyway," Whirl peeked at the dent in Tailgate's cranial casing again, feeling his spark twist, "I  _ had _ him."

"It isn't your fault, Whirl."

"Sure it ain't," he sneered, turning away, unable to look any longer. He glared at the crude energon lining the walls, pale blue crystals that mocked him incessantly because he  _ was _ still technically bleeding out, "It ain't never my fault. I'm just  _ spiralling _ ."

"Yes, Rodimus, we're still here," Cyclonus said, and Whirl could hear his comm spitting quiet static, "No, he's still unconscious. Yes, Whirl is spiralling. I am fine."

Whirl groaned.

Cyclonus's comm clicked off, leaving the two of them in silence. 

"They still comin'?" Whirl asked eventually, despising the way his rattling vents sounded and craving any kind of distraction from his thoughts.

"They are still coming, yes."

"It is, you know," Whirl said, then immediately felt stupid for having done so.

"What?"

"It  _ is _ my fault," he said, not wanting to back down now, "You two would  _ not _ have volunteered for planetside duty if you didn't think I was gonna get myself killed."

"No, we would not have," Cyclonus sighed, "That  _ still _ doesn't indicate fault. We've  _ talked _ about spiralling, Whirl."

"Oh, come off it, how am I s'posed to do anything else," he turned back to look at Tailgate again, "This sucks."

"Because spiralling is only going to make it worse. You need to focus. You can have your breakdown later, in our room where I can reach you." 

Whirl looked back miserably at where Cyclonus had shoved an arm through the break in the rubble toward him and shifted his weight so he could pull an arm out and reach back. Fingers curled against his buckled claws, holding tightly. 

"Sorry," Whirl murmured. 

"Forgiven."

Whirl tried to bend his claws to at least pantomime at holding back, but the pistons were crushed and no matter how hard he tried, he could wrench no movement from them. He huffed, frustrated, glaring at his eternally mutinous hand.

"Don't look at that," Cyclonus said, though it came out sounding less like an order and more like an uncharacteristically tender request, "Look at me." 

Whirl looked through the crack, focusing on the dim glow of Cyclonus's red optics peering back at him. 

"I love you," Cyclonus said, firmly. 

"I love you, too," Whirl rasped. 

Whirl's optic snapped back down when a horrific rattling noise broke the silence, originating from the previously silent and still motionless Tailgate.

"What-" Whirl started, yanking his arm away and grabbing the minibot again by the shoulders, "what is that? What's happening?"

"I don't know-" Cyclonus admitted, and Whirl did not miss that the previously tempered tone of his voice was completely gone, now betrayed by fear. 

Whirl swore, claws hesitating on the edge panelling of his lover's chest before he spat furious static and wrenched it back as quickly as he could, revealing the inner mechanisms. He wasn't a doctor by any stretch of the imagination, but Whirl had put himself back together more times than most and he knew the basics, what tubes were supposed to go where and when a camshaft was moving  _ wrong _ .

"Slag," he snarled, desperately searching for what was making it  _ do  _ that.

"What?!" Cyclonus blurted. Whirl ignored him, focusing on moving bits and pieces to find the problem until his claws were slick with energon, and- there it was.

"He must have cracked a push rod when he fell," he thought out loud, watching the piston flail wildly against the cylinder, the other push rods beginning to fall out of alignment already, the precursor to the whole damn thing tearing itself apart, "it's snapped- I just need to- come  _ on-"  _ Whirl snarled, unable to grab it between his bent and buckled, unresponsive pincers. 

"What's happening?" Cyclonus prompted.

"Slag it!" Whirl cursed, and slammed his pincers into the wall beside him with all the force he could muster, ends first. His claws jerked and the tips crumpled, but the pistons snapped back into the socket with a sickeningly wet crack he  _ knew _ broke something else, but they snapped open,  _ finally _ responding. 

"Whirl!" Cyclonus said, sounding more desperate.

Whirl grabbed the damaged push rod by the bottom end and watched the other half, attached to the rotating coil at the top, moving almost too fast to grab and definitely too fast to hold still while he spot welded the broken halves of the rod back together. 

"I gotta do something crazy," Whirl said, vocalizer shaky, "Don't freak out."

"What? What are you doing?"

Whirl grabbed the ignition coil in his other claw and said a silent prayer to any deity that cared enough to listen, and yanked it out. Tailgate's engine went silent.

"Whirl, what did you  _ do _ ?" Cyclonus yelled, clawing at the rubble, even as it shifted dangerously. Whirl ignored him, grabbing the broken piston shaft ends and snapping a spot welder out of his subspace exactly for this kind of situation. 

"Come on, legs," Whirl hissed almost silently as he shoved himself up to aim one of his vents at the hot metal and blast it with the last cold air he had to spare. This was gonna be a scrap job, but it only had to hold until a real doctor showed up. He jammed the ignition coil back in.

And nothing happened. 

Whirl felt his lines run cold. Tailgate's spark should have restarted combustion and had his engine and entire system running again the second it reconnected. It wasn't moving. His optic darted up, down, uncertain, terrified.

"No, no, no," he panted, checking the pieces again, "No, no, no, why aren't you coming back on? What are you doing?" 

"What's happening?!" Cyclonus begged, and Whirl tried desperately to ignore how outright  _ terrified _ he sounded, "What's wrong?!"

"I don't know!" Whirl cried, pushing the engine back down, revealing Tailgate's tiny spark chamber.

Dark.

"What?! No!" Whirl leaned in, frantic- deep within, a dull glow was barely visible, but there was no way such a low energy output would be able to restart his systems. He needed a transfusion to refuel his spark,  _ immediately _ , and Whirl had already bled out all the good stuff. Whirl felt cold, like deep-space was creeping through his fuel and pulling him into oblivion.

"I can fix this- I can  _ fix _ this-" he babbled, snapping his optics up to the crude energon lining the walls. Unusable in this state. Raw energon wasn't  _ remotely _ stable. It would need to be filtered first. Usually in a refinery, but any kind of filtration would probably be enough for what he needed.

"Whirl!" Cyclonus pleaded, " _ talk _ to me- is he- are you-"

"Cyc," Whirl said, his voice steadying as he stared at the energon, a plan he was certain would work taking shape and form in his mind. It would work. It just came down to a decision. 

"What?" Cyclonus went still, as if he could tell something had changed. 

"I can fix this," Whirl said, more confidently. He heaved himself up and onto his side, straining his already flattened abdominal plating. His fuel tank was thankfully located above the break but low enough he didn't have to go digging around for it, even if one of the main arterial lines had been severed just below it. That fuel valve had been sealed, to at least  _ try _ to bleed out a little slower. He stripped off the broken cable and discarded it, rummaging about in some of the other broken bits that were already fully disconnected until he found a stretch of fuel line long enough to run a loop from the damaged arterial valve to the induction valve. 

"What on  _ Cybertron _ are you  _ doing _ ?!" Cyclonus balked. 

"I just wanted to say, like, if I run out of time here, that it's been really good with you guys," Whirl ran through the words, panicked he wouldn't have time to get through them all, "Like, the best, like, a million times better than I deserve and you know it-"

_ "What?" _

"Just that- Primus, it's been-" Whirl laughed, a little hysterical, "You know! It's funny, cuz the first time we met I was tryin' to kill myself, and then you wandered in and the second you said you were gonna kill me, I was like, well, shucks, I can't die now and give that afthole the satisfaction!"

"What are you  _ talking _ about?!"

"So like, thanks for saving my life, that time, and like a dozen other times, cuz it's been- it's been worth it! I'm totally glad I lived, which is a new one for me!" Whirl felt giddy as his claws slipped, slick on energon, and he grabbed a hunk of crude growing on the wall and ripped it off, crushing the largest crystal beneath the flat side of his rotors. 

"Whirl-"

"Like, I do! I love you! I love him, too! I didn't even think that was a thing I could do for the longest time!" He flipped the welder back on to bring the shards up to temperature and run the liquid state into the induction line. "But I know, like I  _ know _ how things end, and it's  _ you two _ , forever, the way you're supposed to be!"

"Are you  _ insane _ ?" Cyclonus yelled, and now he definitely sounded  _ pissed _ , which only made Whirl feel more bizarrely invigorated.

"No, no, like, I always knew, deep down, this was how things would end- and I'm way happier for it to be like this than like, the natural way, growing apart or whatever, like, you  _ know _ me, Cyc! I don't know how to do anything in half measures! If things don't end in blood and guns what's the point, right?"

He winced as the crude hit his tank, feeling immediately like actual fire in his gut, doubling over around it and trembling with the effort of holding the crude filter in place. He had to do this as fast as he could.

"Whatever the  _ hell _ you're doing, I'm  _ telling  _ you to  _ stop _ !" Cyclonus snarled at him, and Whirl could feel his clawed fingertips scrabbling against his back, just out of reach. 

"I promise," Whirl shuddered, his whole body beginning to shake, "I know what I'm doing and it's worth it."

"Stop," said Cyclonus again, pathetically, "Please stop."

"No," said Whirl, leaning back into Tailgate's internals with his trembling claws and cutting into his main fuel line with a quick snip, shoving the end of his jury-rigged filtration tube into it. He heaved himself back up onto his elbows and squeezed the line with one claw, forcing fresh fuel through the circuit. Whirl grabbed the engine and rolled it manually in the other claw. "Come on, legs! You got this!" he whispered, and gave it another shove, "You got everything you need now, all you gotta do is want it!"

There was a snap and Tailgate's spark flared bright enough Whirl had to offline his optics again and duck, and just like that, the engine was rolling again on its own. 

Whirl sighed and let himself collapse, strutless, back in the ground where he had been resting. His plating felt  _ absurdly  _ cold for some reason. Clawtips scratched at the edge of his helm casing, but he didn't feel like moving again. 

"Whirl," Cyclonus pleaded, "What have you  _ done _ ?"

"I don't get to hear you beg outside of the berth too often," Whirl chuckled weakly, "Don't think I like it as much, honestly."

"Whirl, this is  _ not  _ the t-"

"Oh, come off it, Cyc," Whirl sighed, "we got what we wanted, didn't we? Don't make me die guilty about it." 

The fiery feeling in his gut had spread outward and was reaching up into his chest cavity like licking flames, from the inside out. His vision was starting to dim and fade, and he knew from experience he was getting close to terminal closedown. 

"Please," Cyclonus repeated, on a loop. 

"Too late now," Whirl chuckled weakly, as a rattling sound began in his own engine system, distinctly different, "Don't tell him nothin', alright? I don't wanna lose my reputation as an unfeeling afthole. I worked hard for that." 

Dimly, he thought Cyclonus might have responded, but it all sounded like rushing in his audials, and things darkened further until all he could feel was scrabbling against the back of his helm casing, until he couldn't feel that either. 

* * *

Whirl couldn't sleep. He had been struggling to recharge for days, since he had agreed to move into the lovebird's habsuite, after much badgering. He had been pretending it was the berth size, even though their double wasn't that much smaller than his usual berth, even with the two of them wrapped around him like Legos.

"Still awake?" 

Whirl looked away from the window and the passing starscape to the minibot onlining his optical visor he had tangled up around his abdomen. 

"Yeah," he admitted with a huff, feeling uncharacteristically embarrassed. 

"It's okay," Tailgate soothed, pressing the flat of his mask against Whirl's stomach, a static kiss sparking between them, "It's a big change."

"Yeah," Whirl muttered again, looking askance. 

"What's got you so anxious? Let's talk through it." 

Whirl shifted, trying not to jostle the other mech wrapped around his back, eyeing the pile of their things against the far wall. Tailgate's hoverboard leaned next to Cyclonus's Great Sword, and Whirl had left a pile of guns on the floor, scattered messily and haphazardly about. 

"I think I'm just waiting for the other gear to drop," he admitted, "For y'all to realize what a bad idea this is."

"Hm," Tailgate hummed, thoughtfully, "So what do you think could happen that hasn't happened so far?"

"Huh?" 

"I mean we clearly think it's a good idea now, after everything that's happened," Tailgate explained, "So it stands to reason something new would have to happen to change our perspective, right?" 

"I s'pose that makes sense."

"And considering we've already, like, died, stopped the universe from being destroyed, seen alternate timelines, travelled through time, and like, a bunch of other crazy stuff, what could possibly happen at this point that would be big enough to be bigger than everything else?"

Whirl thought about it.

"I guess it would just be, like, if you had to pick," he said, finally, "If it was me or him, it's gonna be him, you know? That would change things. That would change everything."

"Oh, Whirl," Tailgate sighed, pulling him closer, "That's not how it works. That's not going to happen. No one has to choose." 

"I wouldn't blame you," Whirl murmured, almost to himself, "for choosing him. I get it." 

"You don't get it at all, Whirl," Tailgate shook his head, "But you will. Eventually. I know you will. I'll just keep showing you." 

* * *

Whirl jerked back into consciousness like he had been thrust through the surface of the water, immediately disoriented and in a state of panic.

"Tailgate!" he yelled deliriously, before he even bothered to look around at where he was.

"Whirl!" he snapped his helm toward the voice he had yearned so badly to hear again. Pedesteps clicked against the tile floor rapidly before the minibot threw himself into Whirl's desperately reaching arms, letting himself be crushed against his chest. 

"You  _ stupid _ afthole!" Tailgate sobbed into his arms, though he didn't loosen his death grip, "How  _ could _ you do something so  _ stupid _ !" 

"Am I dead?" Whirl babbled, absurdly. Tailgate felt warm against his plating, armour fresh and whole. 

"You're in the medbay, you  _ idiot _ !" Tailgate yelled, "You  _ should  _ be dead!"

"Oh," said Whirl, finally looking up. So he was.

The room was dim, clearly late into the evening, and Cyclonus was standing a few metres away beside Ratchet, both seemingly stopped mid conversation, staring at him. 

"I'll give you some privacy," Ratchet said, succinctly, and sidestepped his way right out of the room. Cyclonus didn't move.

"Uh," said Whirl, uncertainly, "Good news, then: I didn't die." 

Cyclonus didn't move. 

"You're mad," Whirl stated.

"I'm mad," Cyclonus confirmed, flatly.

"Well," Whirl started, gathering up his bravado, "I ain't got no regrets. I did what had to be done, and- ow!" A tiny fist against his cockpit pulled him out of his monologue. "Hey! That's tender." 

"How  _ could _ you?" Tailgate demanded, glaring up at him with furious optics, streaming optical fluid down the seamlines of his mask, "You were going to  _ leave  _ me here like that? You wanted me to  _ live _ with that?"

"I- no, but I-" Whirl stammered, looking back up at Cyclonus, who remained stoic, then back down at Tailgate, "I had to save you."

"No! No you  _ didn't! _ Not like  _ that _ !" Tailgate sobbed, his fists clenched against the glass even as he refused to release his grip on the helicopter, "We don't  _ do _ that. You survive, no matter what, you don't  _ ever _ just decide to die for me! Not  _ ever _ again!"

"But, I-"

"No!" Tailgate yelled, "Stop! You've both done this and it's  _ horrible _ ! What do you expect, me to wake up totally  _ happy _ that you martyred yourself so I could live without you? So I could just live with that guilt eating at me  _ forever _ ? That's so cruel!"

"Oh," said Whirl. Tailgate heaved through more sobs, clutching miserably at winglets as if he were afraid even now that Whirl might keel over and vanish.

"Yeah,  _ oh,"  _ Tailgate sniffled, " _ Never again _ , Whirl,  _ promise me _ , never again."

"I- I…" Whirl looked up at Cyclonus, still standing by the door.

"Do you know why you're still alive?" Cyclonus asked. 

"I got lucky?" Whirl guessed. 

"No," said Cyclonus. 

"He blew out the ceiling and shoved your fuel tank back in your body, you jerk!" Tailgate snapped, "Before you finished poisoning yourself!" 

"What?" Whirl balked, "but the ceiling could have collapsed on  _ both _ of us!"

"A risk that had to be taken," Cyclonus deadpanned. 

"His spark could have gone out from pulling the plug early!" Whirl argued, incredulous, "What the pit would you do that for? I should have already been a goner!" 

"Because I am not going to let you force me to  _ choose _ one of you," Cyclonus snarled, "Especially not to fuel your self-destructive fantasies. I've chosen you both, and you do not get to convince yourself otherwise." 

"Oh," said Whirl, again, dumbly. 

"Is it sinking in yet?" Cyclonus asked, exasperated. 

"I'm-" Whirl paused, then looked down at Tailgate, who had devolved into just clinging to him and sobbing. "I'm sorry."

Cyclonus's face twitched, and he finally crossed the room to grab Whirl firmly by the shoulders and pull him against his chest, holding him tightly.

"I am relieved you are alright," he murmured, lips ghosting against the side of Whirl's helm. 

Whirl reached weakly up to return the embrace, tanks and processor spinning. 

"Okay, but promise, though," Tailgate said again, sniffling, "Not ever again. Promise me you're going to fight to come back to me next time."

Whirl looked down at the minibot's tear stained face. He could never lie to Tailgate. He had always been able to reach deep into his spark and grab hold of whatever morality Whirl still possessed and clutch it tight between his fingers. He couldn't say something he didn't mean to him, not when he looked at him like that.

"I promise," Whirl said.

**Author's Note:**

> do NOT @ me about my fucked up robot biology I just mixed up car stuff and computer stuff and robot stuff because we are HERE for a MEAL of ANGST with a HAPPY ENDING and I don't CARE if everything makes sense. I do NOT know what an engine is. 
> 
> Also I've started posting on my tf sideblog whirlibirb.tumblr.com so I guess I talk about my fics there maybe


End file.
